Then, there were clients like Daisy Roy.
In front of the camera, she was sunshine. Brands loved her airy brightness; her smile alone could sell millions of products. But once the camera turned off and the lights dimmed, there was nothing shiny about her.
She was all bitch.
Fortunately, our meetings were infrequent.
I read her contracts, I gave her legal advice, I negotiated deals on her behalf.
And I sent her my bill with an extra fifteen percent tacked on that made her attitude a little easier to tolerate.
Greg, Daisy’s agent, opened the folder that rested in front of him and slid it toward Daisy. “Here are the offers I have for you.”
Since Greg had emailed me the contracts a few days ago, I’d done my due diligence and scanned them prior to this meeting. That gave me the knowledge to answer any questions Daisy would have. Now that filming had wrapped on another season of Single Girls of LA—the series that had skyrocketed her fame—several other shows were interested in her.
“Before you read any of the offers,” Greg started, “I’d just like to say, the more screen time you have, the higher your earning potential becomes. So, look at these with an open mind, and going forward, we have to make sure you’re maintaining the image we’ve worked so hard to achieve.”
Daisy’s eyelids narrowed. “What are you trying to say, Greg? That I haven’t been doing a good job at maintaining my reputation?” She fanned all the pages in front of her. “Do you see how many are here? Clearly, there are plenty of people who want me.”
“I’m just telling you, you have to be careful. That’s the only message I’m trying to send. I say the same thing to all my clients,” he responded.
“Save your lectures. Or better yet, use them on my sister. She’s the one who can’t seem to follow the rules.”
In a different situation, I was sure Kendall could handle herself.
But with me in the room, my patience being tested, I wasn’t going to take any more shit that was directly or indirectly aimed at her.
“Daisy, Greg’s not attacking you. He’s seen plenty of careers go up in flames, and he’s only trying to look out for your best interest.” I nodded toward the stack in her hands. “He’s secured multiple deals that are extremely substantial, and he wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t see your potential.”
Daisy laughed, a sound that told me I was wasting her time—and mine—and she began reviewing the first sheet. “No. Definitely not this one. It’s too physical, and I can’t stand sweating. Next.” She tossed the paper and picked up another one, instantly degrading Greg for presenting it to her.
While she moved on to the third one, I gazed at Kendall, her eyes never leaving her sister, like she was waiting for an upcoming demand.
Because I couldn’t fucking help myself, I asked, “What did you do before becoming Daisy’s assistant?”
She inhaled a large breath, slowly turning toward me. “I was an artist.”
“Artist?” Daisy snickered. “Let’s not get carried away. You were a graphic designer.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Kendall replied with no challenge in her voice, “but I did art on the side, mostly volunteer stuff.”
“To ninety-year-olds at nursing homes, whose hands were too arthritic to even hold a paintbrush,” Daisy chimed in again. “This offer is a snore-fest.” Instead of setting the paper off to the side, she shredded it.
“And you gave all of that up to come here?” I asked Kendall.
She held her coffee against her lips, even after she finished swallowing, telling me the question made her uncomfortable. “I still do some art. Not in the same capacity, but I manage Daisy’s social media, and I create and edit all the videos for her accounts and digitally master the photos.”
I suddenly had an urge to check Daisy’s accounts to see what kind of work Kendall was capable of—something I would do after this meeting.
That thought surprised me.
Beyond their bodies, I normally had no interest in the women I slept with, no desire to contact them when I woke the morning after. But when my housekeeper took my pants in for dry cleaning this week, she would find Kendall’s note in the pocket, and she would place it on the island in my closet.
I wasn’t sure why I had taken it home with me.
That was the truth that haunted me as I watched Daisy tear up another sheet.
“Is this a joke?” she snarled. “I don’t know how to bake, and I’m lactose intolerant. Why would you think I’d be interested in this?”
While Kendall focused on her sister, I stared at her, analyzing every inch of her gorgeous fucking face.
Last night, she had been stunning.
But in the morning light, she was even more beautiful.
Sexy in a subtle, charming way. Riveting. And she had a heart—I could see that from over here. I could sense it in every answer she gave.
On that rooftop bar, she’d made me pause. She was doing the same thing now.
I leaned over the table, and the buttons on the sleeves of my suit made a sound as they scraped over the wood, causing Kendall to look at me.
“Have you ever considered getting into television?” I asked her.
She immediately shook her head, those seductive, dark curls falling across her cheeks. “No way. I don’t have the face or the personality.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I would have to disagree.”
“I know you’re not suggesting what I think you are,” Daisy said to me as a warning. Then, she shifted her gaze to Greg. “This one”—she threw a contract at him as though it were a Frisbee—“is disgusting. Would you eat a live cockroach for a quarter of a million dollars?”
There was no doubt in my mind that Kendall had a future in TV. I could feel it in my fucking bones. I could see it as she stared back at me—the look that would appease America, the body every man would fucking crave to be inside of, the voice that wouldn’t get on anyone’s nerves.
It all just depended on whether or not she wanted it.
“What if I told you I could land you a role on an up-and-coming reality show? Would you take it?”
“Wait,” Daisy snapped. “Isn’t this meeting about me?”
“Your agent worked hard in finding the shows that are outlined in front of you,” I responded to her. “This offer is only for your sister.”
Daisy ground her teeth together while Kendall’s jaw dropped.
“Dominick … you aren’t serious?” Kendall said softly.
“I don’t kid.”
Those big, breathtakingly blue eyes were opened so wide that they were the size of half-dollars.
“I …” Kendall shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”
I’d heard her speak those words before.
And I knew what they’d led to last time.
“Say yes, Kendall.”
“Absolutely not,” Daisy interrupted. Now addressing her sister, she said, “You’re my assistant. That’s why I brought you out here. I’m not sharing a manager and an agent and an attorney and a TV screen with you.”
“No one said anything about sharing, Daisy.” I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest. “This building is full of managers and agents who are more than qualified to represent your sister. You have your team. She will have hers.”